Tis the Season
by jemima-blue
Summary: Since it’s the season of giving & all…I bring the gift of a shortish Christmas story. RonanElizabeth, of course. I’ll try to keep Ms. Fluffbritches in line. Spoilery for Season 3, just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_Tis the Season _by jemima-blue

_Summary: _Since it's the season of giving & all…I bring the gift of a short-ish Christmas story. RonanElizabeth, of course. I'll try to keep Ms. Fluffbritches in line.

_Disclaimer : _Characters sadly not mine, yada yada. Just playing with them for fun, not profit!!

_Rating: _T

Ch. 1

Elizabeth peered into the top drawer of her desk in search of a lighter, and was rewarded with a cheap blue plastic Bic. She brought the tiny glass holding the cinnamon scented votive to her nose and inhaled before touching the flame to the wick. It sputtered as it burned off the wax coating and caught hold. The soft scent began to diffuse through the room. She pushed the candle to the back of her desk and watched the tiny flame for a few minutes, pondering the quick passage of time here on Atlantis.

She could hardly believe it was Christmas.

Although they'd been here for a few years now, and all in all they were settled in nicely, they rarely celebrated holidays as they had on Earth. She didn't know when, exactly, she'd begun to miss that, but particularly this year she was melancholy for a taste of the holiday season. The tiny cinnamon candle was really the only representation she had with her. She had a box of them, stashed in one of her drawers in her quarters. She figured if she was careful, they might last the entire month of December.

John poked his head into her office. "Ooh, mood lighting," he teased.

She grinned at him. "Very funny. Going somewhere?" she asked, noting his off-world attire.

"Just flying Teyla over to the mainland for the afternoon," he said. "Need anything while we're gone?"

Elizabeth stood, leaning over to blow out the newly lit candle. No reason to waste it if she was going to be gone. "Nope, I'm coming with you."

John smiled, puzzled. "Any particular reason?"

She shook her head. "Just a little stir crazy."

He slapped the doorframe with his palm before ducking out of the door. "Well, dress warm. It's chilly out."

Elizabeth was pulling on her gloves when she stepped into the back of the jumper, stopping just short of running smack into Ronan's back.

"Oh, Ronan," she smiled apologetically, "I wasn't watching where I was going."

He didn't respond, but nodded once at her before moving to the cockpit.

She followed, taking the seat beside him. Normally she would be sitting next to John, but Teyla occupied that seat today, anxiously awaiting their arrival in her village on the mainland.

As they rose through the opening in the jumper bay, John passed something back to her. She took the brown paper wrapped package. Its size and shape gave away its contents as "book". She glanced up at him quizzically.

"What's this?"

"You're mom sent that to you. Rodney brought it from Stargate Command last week," John said as he maneuvered the jumper smoothly over the waters surrounding the city.

"Last week," she questioned, but forgot the reprimand on her tongue as she tore the paper off the book. How strange for her mother to send her something. She gasped when she lifted the cover.

"What is it?" John and Teyla both turned in their seats, alarmed.

"Oh no, no," Elizabeth waved her hand. "It's nothing bad." She turned the first few pages, her eyes filling at the pictures before her. "It's a photo album. Of Christmases with my family."

John's eyes met hers in understanding, and he turned back in his seat. "I guess it _is _ getting to be close to that time again, isn't it?"

"Time for what," Ronan spoke for the first time since they left the city.

"Christmas," Elizabeth said softly, her eyes devouring the pages of the book slowly, trying in vain to keep her emotions in check. How had her mother, who was several galaxies away, known to send her this most perfect gift? Mother's intuition?

"What's that?" Ronan had been trying not to dwell on the shift in dynamic on this trip, with the elusive Dr. Weir seated next to him rather than next to Sheppard. It had thrown off his balance slightly and his best defense was to ignore her. But he couldn't ignore the way she smoothed graceful fingers down the glossy surface of the pages in the book she held, tracing the outline of some of the pictures. She wore a soft smile he had never seen, and as she turned the pages she lightly touched the faces in the photos.

He found himself leaning onto the elbow nearest her, to garner a better look.

"It's a religious holiday that we celebrate on Earth. It falls on our calendar on December 25." She turned in his direction but her gaze was faraway. "When I was small, my father and I would drive up to my grandparents farm to find a tree," she did look at him then. Ronan was struck mute at her sweet smile. He forgot to be uncomfortable.

"We would tramp across the fields in the snow, wandering through the woods until we found the perfect one." She laughed at the memory. "I can remember being so cold my toes were numb, but the thrill of finding _the tree_ made it all worth it," she paused to flip back through the red leather book in her lap before holding it up for him to see.

In the center of the page was a white-bordered photograph of a little girl in braids, her arms tightly wound around the neck of the man holding her against his hip. On the snowy ground beside them lay a fir tree tied to a wooden sled, and a large, furry dog, tongue lolling about. The girl was laughing, a gap clearly visible between her front teeth.

"My dad," she said, laughing softly. "I must have been about 7."

Ronan only watched her, afraid to break the spell she was weaving with her words.

"After bringing home the tree, which my mother would fuss over and water as though it were one of her plants, my dad would light it."

Ronan's eyebrows raised. "He burned it?" he asked, puzzled.

Elizabeth's laugh rang out in the jumper, and John glanced over his shoulder at them.

"What's so funny?"

Her hand was over her mouth to hold in the giggle that threatened to escape, but she lay it on Ronan's arm before answering, as though apologizing for laughing. He looked down at the perfectly manicured fingertips, so graceful and soft. He caught himself just before reaching his own hand over to touch one of them, and gripped his knee instead.

"I was explaining Christmas decorations to Ronan," she wrinkled her nose conspiratorially at him before continuing. "I think I'll have to use my photo album more and describe less," she said. The forearm under her fingers tensed slightly, and she realized her thumb had unwittingly began to stroke the smooth skin. She jerked her hand back and busied herself with turning another page in the album.

"Look at the snow," she sighed. "Christmas really should be white."


	2. Chapter 2

_Tis the Season _by jemima-blue

Ch 2.

Elizabeth was touched at the Athosian's reaction to her surprise visit. In honor of their unexpected guests an impromptu celebration ensued, complete with feast and music. The temperatures continued their downward turn, but the nip in the air did nothing to slow the revelers; the laughter & visiting continued late into the afternoon.

Elizabeth's gaze strayed to the cluster of woods that surrounded the encampment, and looking down at her watch, she bit her lip. It would be dark soon.

A mug of a spicy dark liquid was pushed into her hands. Shaking her head in protest, the words died on her lips at Ronan's grinning countenance. "Don't refuse until you've tried it," he smirked before dropping to the ground beside her. Tipsy, he had to leverage a large hand on the ground to prevent himself from falling into her.

Laughter danced in her eyes, but she didn't comment on his obviously inebriated state. She took a small sip of the drink and gasped, eyes watering. "Oh my," she sputtered.

"Too strong," he asked, practically leering at the cup in her hands. Elizabeth found herself unable to tear her gaze from the blatant desire in his eyes. The fact that the desire was directed at the mug she held was laughable, but it didn't stop the flutter of nerves that stirred in her midsection. She took a bigger gulp of the drink. And coughed violently.

Ronan, laughing, reached over to thump her on the back a few times before taking the drink from her hands and throwing it back in one gulp. His teeth flashed in the fading light as he nodded towards the trees. "What's so interesting back there?"

"What?" her eyes revealed her surprise. He had been watching her. This pleased her, and the fact that it did was unsettling. More so now that he had lain back onto an elbow, exposing a long column of tanned throat when he looked up at her. She dragged her gaze away and tried to remember the question. "Uh, nothing, really. I had thought maybe I might find…" she trailed off. With his crash course in Christmas culture only barely begun during the puddle jumper ride, she doubted he would understand her wish to have a Christmas tree this year. Actually, now that she thought about it, it sounded somewhat silly to her too. Where would she put it? What would she put under it? And most importantly, what in the world would she decorate it with?

"Find…" he prompted. His fingers brushed a stray blade of dried grass from her knee and she jumped.

"Well…" she took a deep breath. "A tree. I thought I might find a small tree to use as a Christmas tree." There. It was out. She braced herself for his look of confusion, or worse, disdain.

He rolled quickly to his feet. She was surprised, considering he must be feeling one heck of a buzz. She had only had two drinks of the fiery liquid and was already pleasantly fuzzy. When she didn't follow him, he reached down to grab her bicep and pulled her to her feet. He ignored her protests and dragged her towards the trees. Elizabeth glanced back at the group gathered around the blazing fire, but no one was paying them any mind.

They picked their way through the dense thicket, Ronan leading. His large body blocked most of the wayward branches from slapping against her, but not all of them. Frustrated she smacked him in the back after one nearly took her head off. He stopped abruptly. "What?"

"Why don't you let me lead for a while," she asked sweetly and pushed to the front.

Ronan bit back a smile as she tossed her head and took off. The view was definitely better from back here, he thought as his gaze fell to her backside neatly encased in regulation black pants. He was concentrating so hard on controlling his reaction to the sight and smell of her, he missed warning her about the log until it was too late.

She flew over it, landing with a thud on the other side. He was following too closely to prevent himself from falling with her, although he did react in time to keep from landing on her with his full weight. Instead, he was able to break his fall with his arms, one hand braced on either side of her head. Chest heaving, she lay trapped under him.

"Sorry," she breathed.

Ronan knew realistically what he was feeling was in large part due to the effects of the drink. The rich, pungent brew was notorious at weddings and other celebrations for its ability to bring the harshest enemies together in friendship. Even armed with that knowledge, however, he couldn't rein in this increased awareness of her. He could smell her excitement and it just served to intensify his own. His thoughts flashed to the soft feel of her fingertips on his forearm in the puddle jumper and he had a sudden wild vision of those fingertips gliding over other parts of his body. Frustrated, he tore his gaze from her parted lips and shoved off of her forcefully, swearing under his breath.

Free from his body weight, and not entirely pleased about it, Elizabeth clamored to her feet. They stood awkwardly for a few seconds, each avoiding the gaze of the other. Well, that sobered me up in a hurry, she thought. Drawing a shaky breath, she raked her fingers through her hair. "I guess we should be getting back," she ventured a glance at his face in the shadows. "It's too dark to find a tree now anyway."

He did look at her then, but she had already turned away. He waited a beat before following, unclenching his fists as he regained control. The effects of the wine was wearing off and with it he hoped this unexpected attraction to Dr. Weir would also dissipate.

"Tell me more about your Christmas," he said as they walked.

Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow up at him. He had moved to walk beside her, and shortened his stride to match her own. Even in the darkened woods, she thought she could see a glint of humor in his eyes. Since she appreciated the effort to forget the previous awkwardness, she began to describe decorating the tree, baking cookies, and wrapping presents. She smiled to herself at the way he perked up during her description of gingerbread men, and made a mental note to check the commissary for molasses when they returned to Atlantis.

She was on Santa Claus by the time the light from the bonfire shown through the trees up ahead.

"A man from the North brings gifts to everyone on Earth," he asked skeptically. He held a branch aside to let her pass under it. She looked at his suddenly chivalrous arm pointedly, but could tell the irony was lost on him.

"Well, not everyone," she said. "And he's mainly for the children. A story to demonstrate the selflessness of the season… of giving." His expression was still skeptical, so she shrugged in defeat. "I guess you had to be there?"

"It a myth," he said bluntly.

She bristled in spite of herself. "Yes, the _man_ Santa Claus is a myth, although based on a real person," she stopped herself before she launched into a McKay-like tirade. "But the season of giving is very real. Christmas is about making those around you happy, about seeing to it that their fondest wishes are met." She dropped her gaze to the forest floor, melancholy once again for things she would miss this holiday. "It's more about the effort, about giving of yourself, than about what you receive in return," she said softly.

Ronan was hyperaware of her again. And as far as he could tell, his body had already burned through the last remaining effects of the wine. That meant it was all her. He didn't want to rejoin the others just yet.

"Why snow," he asked. Cold, white, stark. He couldn't think of a single reason to celebrate snow. He had spent many a freezing night with the stuff over the past several years, and didn't think he'd be all that devastated if he never saw it again.

Elizabeth stopped at the edge of the clearing to gaze up at the millions of still unfamiliar stars overhead. "Because it covers everything in a fresh, white coating and makes even the ugliest scene beautiful," she shrugged. "And when I was small, I thought it was magical. When it snowed on Christmas, it just made the day more special."

Ronan didn't respond as they walked slowly back to the fire to join their friends. He was beginning to understand the term diplomat. Elizabeth Weir could weave a spell with her words to sway even the strongest of men to her side.

But he still hated snow.


	3. Chapter 3

_Tis the Season _by jemima-blue

Ch 3

Ronan watched her from his vantage point in the shadowy corner. The recreational room was normally busy during the weekend and evening, crowded at times with off the clock staff and personnel. On this particular Sunday, all present were gathered around an object in the center of the room, many exclaiming excitedly. He guessed Dr. Weir wasn't the only one from her expedition in need of this little sentiment.

And little it was. Less than 3 feet tall, including the Athosian pottery it had been planted in, the fir tree was nonetheless sturdy and full of prickly needles. It had shed all over the jumper after he and Rodney had retrieved it from the mainland this afternoon, leaving a fragrant trail of the dark green on the floor. Upon docking in the jumper bay, Ronan had picked up the tiny tree and left McKay to take care of the mess before Sheppard discovered it.

He had been waiting most of the afternoon for her to make an appearance in the rec room. He had assumed (faultily) that she would hear of the tree and come to investigate. Instead, it appeared it would be an old-fashioned surprise. Not an easy task on an island of a city, filled with the same people day after day.

Now his eyes were trained on the elegant line of her neck as she strained to see what the group of people huddled near the coffee table were looking at. And on the sparkle in her eyes when they alighted on the tree…simple though it was, and undecorated as he wouldn't have known where to start anyway. Her eyes found his from across the room with little effort. Hers were glistening with pleasure and gratitude, and an undefinable something more. His heart twisted painfully in his chest in response.

He nodded once in her direction before leaving the room.

- - - - - - - -

Elizabeth fussed with the tree, checking the soil for dampness, brushing needles from the table into her palm. It was late, past midnight in fact, and she knew she should go to bed. As she had for several nights this week, she found herself detouring to the rec room before turning in, to visit "her" tree. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the pine smell that reminded her so of home and the season. This tree might be staying well past Christmas, she thought. She adjusted a few of the varied "ornaments" that now adorned it. In light of their lack of traditional decorations, the citizens of Atlantis had taken it upon themselves to surreptitiously attach a trinket to the tree. By some unspoken rule, it wasn't known exactly who had brought what. Rather, each new day it was fun to stop in to view any new decorations that may have "sprouted" overnight.

The evergreen boughs now held tiny mirrors, bits of silver and gold, and many different kinds of paper ornaments, most hand-fashioned. There was even an origami star, intricately folded and manipulated into a 3-dimensional form and positioned at the top.

But best of all, and perhaps most exciting to the homesick expedition, were the presents that had begun to appear underneath. Simply wrapped in plain paper, gifts for the Atlantis crew and staff were stacked artfully under the bottom branches…and then spilled over onto the floor below the table the tree stood on. The packages held simple gifts, as their shopping was limited, and no "From" names were listed, only "To's". Elizabeth had started bringing the gifts, one for John and Carson, one for Rodney and Zelenka and Lorne, one for Teyla…but as she'd snuck them under the tree night after night, she noticed the arrival of other gifts, gifts she hadn't brought. This continued until there were many, many presents. She too had felt a child-like thrill the first time she spotted her name scrawled on one of the brown paper packages under the tree.

Tonight she had brought another tiny box to stick under the tree, one she had been saving for last. This one made her nervous and giddy and breathless all at once. This one she had fussed over, and argued with herself over, and been indecisive over …until she had given in and brought it to place under the tree.

It was just her luck that he caught her placing his own gift among those that were anonymous.

Ronan leaned against the doorframe, eyes following her as she moved around the table. He watched her tuck the small box between two larger ones. "Is that for me," he asked, startling her.

Elizabeth smiled in his direction, wagging a finger back and forth. "I'm not telling."

He pushed off the frame and strode slowly toward her. Her pulse jumped erratically. She had seen him fight in battle, movements so quick you only saw a flash of sword before his victim fell. But this slow, purposeful pace was her secret favorite, primal and unhurried, and taking her breath away.

She placed herself between him and the presents.

"Move," he said when he reached her.

"No," she replied tartly.

He took another step and she had to look up to see his face. "Yes," he growled, low, eyes hooded and dark.

"Uh uh," she said, biting her lip to hold back a smile.

They didn't blink, a stare off. Elizabeth's eyes widened as she noted his eyes had flecks of green in them.

Ronan spotted her lapse in concentration and neatly reached around her for the package with his name on it.

Elizabeth grabbed for the box, but he held her at bay with one hand. Laughter bubbled over as she struggled to retrieve it. Giving up she slapped him playfully on the chest.

"Fine, you win." She dropped onto the couch in front of the tree.

Ronan sat next to her and made as if to tear into the package. She grabbed his arm in alarm. "You can't open it!" she exclaimed.

"Why not," he paused before tearing the paper.

"It's not Christmas yet," she said, relaxing her grip on his arm. One leg tucked under the other, her knee rested slightly on his thigh. She was at once cozy and comfortable and exquisitely uncomfortable at the same time. She resisted the impulse to move away, and decided to just enjoy the tingle in her thigh with each movement he made.

He placed the box on his knee between them and looked at her with a grin. "Please," he asked. It was said so sincerely, and so sweetly, that Elizabeth laughed outright in surprise. Disbelief in hearing Ronan Dex beg collided forcefully with images of an entirely different sort, until Elizabeth thought her eyes might cross from the headiness of it all.

She found herself nodding in agreement.

He pulled the paper off rather gleefully for someone who'd never experienced Christmas before. Elizabeth scooted closer to him, enjoying this rare private moment. The hour was so late, she doubted anyone would happen along until morning, making her feel both bold and more relaxed.

He carefully opened the box lid to reveal a simple leather cord, intricately knotted and adorned with creamy, hand-carved beads. He eyes were serious when they met hers. "Thank you."

She took the leather from him, and he held out his left wrist to her. She tied the bracelet in place, carefully tightening it.

"You're welcome."


	4. Chapter 4

_Tis the Season _by jemima-blue

_Author's Note: _And so we come to a sweet fluffy ending. Wishing all my Ronan/Liz shipper comrades a Very Merry Christmas. May there be Peace on Earth and an abundance of Ronan/Liz shippery goodness in the New Year. ;o)_  
_

Ch. 4

Elizabeth stretched her arms over her head with a yawn, then burrowed deep into the covers, savoring the warm cocoon.

A calloused finger traced a path down the inside of her forearm from wrist to elbow. She slapped the covers away from her head and faced him in a rush of breath.

"You scared me."

He grinned, taking in her sleep-flushed face and tousled curls. "Sorry."

She tried to give him a stern look but failed miserably. Sleep still had its fuzzy grip on her consciousness and her guard was down. "How'd you get in here," she mumbled.

Ronan quirked an eyebrow at her and didn't answer. He tugged on the edge of her blanket. "Get up."

Elizabeth groaned and rolled to a sitting position. Her bare feet dangled over the edge of the bed, flannel pj bottoms crooked and twisted around her calves. Ronan's gaze lingered on the dip of her waist as she stood & stretched once more. He handed her a jacket and walked to the door.

"What's the hurry," she spoke in low tones. He hadn't turned on any lights and the darkness of her room gave her pause. It was the middle of the night. Just what was he about at this hour, anyway? "And where are we going?"

She slipped her feet into an old pair of comfy shoes she stashed near the bed and padded over to where he stood silent and unresponsive. He gaze traveled over her hair and face, then down her torso. His reached for her and for a breath-stealing second Elizabeth thought he was going to take her hand.

He zipped her jacket. "It's cold outside."

"I'm going outside," she asked incredulously. He flashed a brief grin before stepping aside to let her pass in front of him into the hall.

They walked in silence through the corridors. Atlantis personnel were tucked away, safe in their beds. "While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads," she murmured.

"Huh," he asked.

Their arms bumped against each other companionably as they walked, and it gave her a pleasant tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach. "It's a Christmas poem," she tucked her tongue in her cheek and peeked up at him. "About Santa Claus."

"Ahhh. Santa." He nodded so confidently she was immediately suspicious.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She leaned hard to her right on the next step, although mostly in vain. He was rock solid when she nudged him and didn't falter. He glanced down at her with raised eyebrows, but didn't take the bait. Her lower lip pushed out in a pout.

Then his fingers brushed hers and she held her breath.

"This way." He turned toward her office.

Realizing they were heading for the balcony, she was glad he had prompted her to zip up. A cold snap had gripped the city in the last several days, the chill in the air adding to the festive holiday atmosphere. When daybreak came, the entire expedition would be meeting in the gate room to toast the Christmas Day. It wasn't their first Christmas on Atlantis, but somehow it had become the first one they had truly celebrated. Later, there would be a special feast and the ultimate Christmas treat…opening the presents under the tree.

When the balcony door swished open Ronan turned suddenly, backing out in front of her. She laughed up at him. "What are you doing?"

He did reach for her hand then, and she sucked in a rush of the cold night air. "Surprising you."

Her eyes on his, she let him pull her across the threshold. Fat, fluffy flakes fell from the sky, covering every surface in a thick blanket of white. She gasped. It was snowing. She gripped his hand tighter and laughed in delight. "It's snowing!"

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "It's cold and wet and I hate it."

"It's perfect," she said softly. "Thank you for waking me."

Ronan looked down at her, the snow catching in her hair and on her face, melting as it touched the warmth of her skin. Her tiny hand was still clasped in his much larger one, and if she had been less excited about the snow she would probably pull away. So he didn't move a muscle.

Elizabeth was very aware of the warmth of his hand as it held hers. She looked up at the tall, silent man in front of her. His eyes were still unreadable and his face was still hard. But there was a softness about him as they stood here in the falling snow. She stood on tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek.

He turned his head in the last second and met her lips with his instead. Elizabeth's eyelids fluttered closed. She leaned into him, enjoying the heady sensation of warm tongue and cold lips. After a long moment, she pulled away, their mingled breaths making shallow puffs of "smoke" in the air.

She still gripped his hand and briefly wondered if she should let go.

His forehead dropped to meet hers.

"Merry Christmas," he said, voice low.

Elizabeth smiled contentedly. "Merry Christmas."


End file.
